SN Fic: Our Earth Logic
May. 7th, 2007 11:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: Our Earth Logic
Fandom: Sports Night
Pairing: Dan/Casey
Disclaimer: Still not Sorkin.
Word count: 1,760
Summary: Take one Tuesday night, three SN employees and a little alcohol, then listen to the conversation.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
celli's Taxfic '07 challenge and as a sequel to Insane Troll Logic. Huge thanks to phoebesmum for betaing at the drop of a hat. The effort was greatly appreciated.
***
Anthony's was suffering the usual Tuesday night crowd of hardened drinkers, self-pitying stockbrokers and one noisy sports show crew. Tonight wasn't a commiseration -- the last minute Rangers scoop had ensured that -- and wasn't quite a celebration -- not after Danny's referring to "the team previously known as the Wassington Shenators" -- but the show had been one of their better ones, the beer was fine and the company was cheerful. Casey was having a good time.
It helped that Danny was playing footsie with him under the table.
"What happened to Dan's accountant?" Dana's question seemed to come out of the blue, but not out of a giant blue margarita. (After the unfortunate incident of a can-can line on the bar-top, the ban at El Perro Fumando had become permanent.) The dry martini in her hand probably had something to do with it, though.
Dan was pretending to do the crossword, pen in hand, and using that to ignore the conversation.
"Nothing's happened to Dan's accountant," Casey replied, after a moment of careful -- and slightly buzzed -- thought. Dan's accountant was a ridiculously tall, dark-haired guy called Chris Saul; Casey was pretty sure his middle name was Lurch. He wore small, round granny-glasses that hovered on the end of his nose and took notes in indecipherable scratchings.
Casey knew this because Lisa had somehow got their accountant in the divorce but Danny had been willing to share his. Said a lot about the both of them, really.
"Nothing happened?" For the five hundredth -- or maybe sixth -- time that night, Dana lifted up her olive, sucked the alcohol from it and then returned it to the martini glass. It was distracting. Not quite like the way Danny's socked foot was brushing against Casey's calf, sure, but still distracting. "Really? He studied and got nowhere?"
Casey frowned. "You've lost me." Then he looked across at Danny. "This conversation has lost me."
"The conversation never found me." Danny grinned and pressed his foot a little harder against Casey's leg. "So what are we talking about?"
Casey shrugged and pointed at Dana beside him, who had started playing with the toothpick again. "Dana says you studied for Chris."
"No, I didn't." Dropping the Times to the tabletop, Dan caught Dana's eye. "I don't study for my taxes. I just bring the receipts and Chris does the rest."
"Your accountant is called Chris?" Dana asked.
"Yeah, Chris Saul," Dan said. "He's a good guy."
Casey added, "But a very tall one. Freakishly tall."
"Dikembe Mutombo tall," Dan said.
"Yao Ming tall."
"Sun Ming Ming tall."
Casey grinned. "Ri Myung Hun tall."
"Alexander Sizonenko tall," Dan replied, and Casey was trying to think of a taller basketball player when Dana started tapping her nails on her glass.
"Wait." She looked confused. "Your accountant is a guy?"
Dan nodded. "My accountant's always been a guy."
"As far as you know," Casey added.
"You think I wouldn't notice if my accountant was suddenly a girl?"
"I'm saying you might not know everything about your accountant. Maybe Chris was once a Christina. You can't make random assumptions these days, Danny."
"He's nearly seven foot tall."
"Then Christina would have been a very tall woman," Casey admitted, "but my point stands."
Danny shrugged, but it was Dana who spoke. "The accountant, the one that you studied accounting to try to impress, was a guy?"
"I never studied to impress --" Dan started as Casey kicked him softly under the table to remind him that, yes, there had been beers and martinis consumed tonight but that didn't make Dana any *better* at keeping secrets.
"Wrong accountant," Casey said quickly.
Dana gave a little shrug, showing that this made the story much less interesting. "Did anything happen?"
"Nah," Danny said. "Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing."
"He studied, he quoted withholding rates and exemption categories, and she thought he was too nerdy."
"She did not think I was nerdy," Dan objected. "She simply said that my ability to explain qualifying trusts made her nervous."
"Nervous, nerdy," Casey said, weighing each word in a hand, "they're kind of similar. Maybe you misunderstood her."
"Yeah, like you're about to misunderstand a sharp slap to the back of the head," Danny bickered back. Casey would have taken the threat seriously -- or as seriously as he ever took threats of physical violence from Danny -- if it wasn't for the gleam in Dan's eye.
Danny lifted his beer to his lips and raised his brows for a moment, and that sharp, cheeky expression proved Casey hadn't lost any brownie points. Licking his lips, Dan slid his foot higher between Casey's calves.
Blinking, Casey noticed Dana was speaking. "What?"
"I'm just saying," she said slowly, speaking just loud enough to show she'd boarded the bus and was on her way to Drunksville. "I'm saying that there's no point studying."
Dan caught Casey’s gaze and smirked. "Says the woman with a Masters."
"I'm saying there's no point," she repeated. "If you have to study, the girl isn't worth impressing."
"Maybe not," Dan agreed, "but can I get back to my crossword?"
Dana snorted. "Who brings a crossword to a bar?"
"Someone with limited social skills," Casey supplied.
Dana turned to him with a frown of concentration on her face. "You brought a crossword?"
"No, I'm saying Dan did."
"You said you did."
"I said someone with limited social skills."
"Exactly," Dana said, seizing the point. "Of the three of us, you are the most limited person by far. What did you expect me to think?"
"That I was insulting Danny in a familiar and patronising way designed to show affection and reaffirm the bonds of our friendship." He looked to Danny for some back-up, but got waved off. "You're not going to help?"
"I'm doing my crossword." True to his word, Dan scribbled in a few letters but left his foot hooked around Casey's ankle.
Dana started to lean towards Casey. Or started listing towards him. Listing was probably a better description for being so drunk she was having trouble sitting upright, but she wasn't at that stage yet. "Why is he doing a crossword?"
"He's trying to embiggen his vocabulary."
Dan looked up at him, which was the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Seriously, Casey, that joke wasn't funny four hours ago, and its humour potential hasn't increased in the last three times you've said it."
"What if I say it a fourth time?"
Dan rolled his eyes and turned back to his crossword.
"Ignoring the fact that 'embiggen' isn't a real word and you're still not allowed to use it on-air," Dana said, "what's wrong with Dan's vocabularl-- vocubal-- word use?"
"There's a political fundraiser on Saturday."
Dana sniggered. "For Hillary Clinton?"
"For Hillary Clinton herself."
"He thinks using big words will impress her and make her talk about that nice young Rydell boy?"
Casey looked at Dan carefully. Dan kept his head down, pretending to ignore the conversation, but his pen had stopped moving. It was a telltale sign. "I don't think she'll refer to him as the Rydell boy. Even young man is pushing it these days. But I'm sure she'll be impressed."
Dan stopped the charade. "But 'ooh, instantly forgotten' impressed or 'send me your resume and maybe we can work together' impressed? That's the important question."
"You looking for another job?" Dana asked.
Dan shrugged. "I think I could offer her something."
"Critique on her shoes?"
"Some insight from the common working masses. A way to be in touch with the political youth of today."
Dana snorted. "You appear on national television most nights and earn at least five times the average salary of those common masses."
"Also, describing yourself as a youth is really pushing the boundaries of belief," Casey added, "and referring to today's youth as political is oxymoronic at best."
"You're oxymoronic," Dan muttered.
"There is a dictionary in our office. Feel free to use it any time you want," Casey said, and Dan pulled his foot back to his side of the table. Which was clearly unfair; Casey hadn't been trying to be mean or anything. "What would you do there? I'm pretty sure there isn't a campaign position for comic relief."
"I'd be a speechwriter. Or in charge of communications. I'd deal with the press and write stirring speeches, and appear beside her at galas dressed in white tie and tails." Dan sighed in a way that could only be described as dreamy, besotted and extremely deluded. "It'd be like my job now, except no sport, no chaos, no network threatening me with gag orders. I'd be making a difference in the world and, after a few months, Hillary would turn to me -- probably dressed in wine-coloured silk and Chanel slingbacks -- and say that my presence on the campaign had reinvigorated her political chances and that she'd personally found herself inspired by my words."
"This would be more convincing if you could write a script that went more than seven minutes without throwing to me," Casey said, trying not to be jealous of Dan’s ridiculous crush. He nearly succeeded. "Unless you think dear Hillary’s chances would be improved by banter."
Dan rolled his eyes. "I don’t think Hillary needs help in the banter department."
"But she needs your media expertise?" Casey asked and Dan nodded. "Considering your stunning history with interviews and your ability to annoy reporters, I think your reasoning leaves something to be desired. I'd even say it doesn't resemble Earth logic at all."
The bitter twinge of jealousy disappeared when Dan's foot slid over to once more join Casey’s. "You know the actual quote is 'Your logic does not resemble our Earth logic', right?"
Dan grinned brightly – the type of smile that clearly said Casey was being an idiot but Dan could forgive him for it -- and Casey had to smile back. "You're assuming I was trying to quote something."
"I'm assuming you were insulting me to affectionately reaffirm our friendship.”
"Something like that," Casey agreed. "Mind you, Hillary would probably find the ability to quote depreciation rulings very sexy."
"Nothing’s sexier than tax rulings, Casey."
Dan slid his foot up Casey’s calf, and Casey wanted to say he could personally list at least five things Dan could do that were far sexier than memorising tax rulings, but a crowded public bar really wasn’t the place for it. He’d prove his point when they got home.
Beside them, Dana snorted. "No wonder you didn’t get the girl."
Fandom: Sports Night
Pairing: Dan/Casey
Disclaimer: Still not Sorkin.
Word count: 1,760
Summary: Take one Tuesday night, three SN employees and a little alcohol, then listen to the conversation.
Notes: Written for
celli's Taxfic '07 challenge and as a sequel to Insane Troll Logic. Huge thanks to phoebesmum for betaing at the drop of a hat. The effort was greatly appreciated.***
Anthony's was suffering the usual Tuesday night crowd of hardened drinkers, self-pitying stockbrokers and one noisy sports show crew. Tonight wasn't a commiseration -- the last minute Rangers scoop had ensured that -- and wasn't quite a celebration -- not after Danny's referring to "the team previously known as the Wassington Shenators" -- but the show had been one of their better ones, the beer was fine and the company was cheerful. Casey was having a good time.
It helped that Danny was playing footsie with him under the table.
"What happened to Dan's accountant?" Dana's question seemed to come out of the blue, but not out of a giant blue margarita. (After the unfortunate incident of a can-can line on the bar-top, the ban at El Perro Fumando had become permanent.) The dry martini in her hand probably had something to do with it, though.
Dan was pretending to do the crossword, pen in hand, and using that to ignore the conversation.
"Nothing's happened to Dan's accountant," Casey replied, after a moment of careful -- and slightly buzzed -- thought. Dan's accountant was a ridiculously tall, dark-haired guy called Chris Saul; Casey was pretty sure his middle name was Lurch. He wore small, round granny-glasses that hovered on the end of his nose and took notes in indecipherable scratchings.
Casey knew this because Lisa had somehow got their accountant in the divorce but Danny had been willing to share his. Said a lot about the both of them, really.
"Nothing happened?" For the five hundredth -- or maybe sixth -- time that night, Dana lifted up her olive, sucked the alcohol from it and then returned it to the martini glass. It was distracting. Not quite like the way Danny's socked foot was brushing against Casey's calf, sure, but still distracting. "Really? He studied and got nowhere?"
Casey frowned. "You've lost me." Then he looked across at Danny. "This conversation has lost me."
"The conversation never found me." Danny grinned and pressed his foot a little harder against Casey's leg. "So what are we talking about?"
Casey shrugged and pointed at Dana beside him, who had started playing with the toothpick again. "Dana says you studied for Chris."
"No, I didn't." Dropping the Times to the tabletop, Dan caught Dana's eye. "I don't study for my taxes. I just bring the receipts and Chris does the rest."
"Your accountant is called Chris?" Dana asked.
"Yeah, Chris Saul," Dan said. "He's a good guy."
Casey added, "But a very tall one. Freakishly tall."
"Dikembe Mutombo tall," Dan said.
"Yao Ming tall."
"Sun Ming Ming tall."
Casey grinned. "Ri Myung Hun tall."
"Alexander Sizonenko tall," Dan replied, and Casey was trying to think of a taller basketball player when Dana started tapping her nails on her glass.
"Wait." She looked confused. "Your accountant is a guy?"
Dan nodded. "My accountant's always been a guy."
"As far as you know," Casey added.
"You think I wouldn't notice if my accountant was suddenly a girl?"
"I'm saying you might not know everything about your accountant. Maybe Chris was once a Christina. You can't make random assumptions these days, Danny."
"He's nearly seven foot tall."
"Then Christina would have been a very tall woman," Casey admitted, "but my point stands."
Danny shrugged, but it was Dana who spoke. "The accountant, the one that you studied accounting to try to impress, was a guy?"
"I never studied to impress --" Dan started as Casey kicked him softly under the table to remind him that, yes, there had been beers and martinis consumed tonight but that didn't make Dana any *better* at keeping secrets.
"Wrong accountant," Casey said quickly.
Dana gave a little shrug, showing that this made the story much less interesting. "Did anything happen?"
"Nah," Danny said. "Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing."
"He studied, he quoted withholding rates and exemption categories, and she thought he was too nerdy."
"She did not think I was nerdy," Dan objected. "She simply said that my ability to explain qualifying trusts made her nervous."
"Nervous, nerdy," Casey said, weighing each word in a hand, "they're kind of similar. Maybe you misunderstood her."
"Yeah, like you're about to misunderstand a sharp slap to the back of the head," Danny bickered back. Casey would have taken the threat seriously -- or as seriously as he ever took threats of physical violence from Danny -- if it wasn't for the gleam in Dan's eye.
Danny lifted his beer to his lips and raised his brows for a moment, and that sharp, cheeky expression proved Casey hadn't lost any brownie points. Licking his lips, Dan slid his foot higher between Casey's calves.
Blinking, Casey noticed Dana was speaking. "What?"
"I'm just saying," she said slowly, speaking just loud enough to show she'd boarded the bus and was on her way to Drunksville. "I'm saying that there's no point studying."
Dan caught Casey’s gaze and smirked. "Says the woman with a Masters."
"I'm saying there's no point," she repeated. "If you have to study, the girl isn't worth impressing."
"Maybe not," Dan agreed, "but can I get back to my crossword?"
Dana snorted. "Who brings a crossword to a bar?"
"Someone with limited social skills," Casey supplied.
Dana turned to him with a frown of concentration on her face. "You brought a crossword?"
"No, I'm saying Dan did."
"You said you did."
"I said someone with limited social skills."
"Exactly," Dana said, seizing the point. "Of the three of us, you are the most limited person by far. What did you expect me to think?"
"That I was insulting Danny in a familiar and patronising way designed to show affection and reaffirm the bonds of our friendship." He looked to Danny for some back-up, but got waved off. "You're not going to help?"
"I'm doing my crossword." True to his word, Dan scribbled in a few letters but left his foot hooked around Casey's ankle.
Dana started to lean towards Casey. Or started listing towards him. Listing was probably a better description for being so drunk she was having trouble sitting upright, but she wasn't at that stage yet. "Why is he doing a crossword?"
"He's trying to embiggen his vocabulary."
Dan looked up at him, which was the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Seriously, Casey, that joke wasn't funny four hours ago, and its humour potential hasn't increased in the last three times you've said it."
"What if I say it a fourth time?"
Dan rolled his eyes and turned back to his crossword.
"Ignoring the fact that 'embiggen' isn't a real word and you're still not allowed to use it on-air," Dana said, "what's wrong with Dan's vocabularl-- vocubal-- word use?"
"There's a political fundraiser on Saturday."
Dana sniggered. "For Hillary Clinton?"
"For Hillary Clinton herself."
"He thinks using big words will impress her and make her talk about that nice young Rydell boy?"
Casey looked at Dan carefully. Dan kept his head down, pretending to ignore the conversation, but his pen had stopped moving. It was a telltale sign. "I don't think she'll refer to him as the Rydell boy. Even young man is pushing it these days. But I'm sure she'll be impressed."
Dan stopped the charade. "But 'ooh, instantly forgotten' impressed or 'send me your resume and maybe we can work together' impressed? That's the important question."
"You looking for another job?" Dana asked.
Dan shrugged. "I think I could offer her something."
"Critique on her shoes?"
"Some insight from the common working masses. A way to be in touch with the political youth of today."
Dana snorted. "You appear on national television most nights and earn at least five times the average salary of those common masses."
"Also, describing yourself as a youth is really pushing the boundaries of belief," Casey added, "and referring to today's youth as political is oxymoronic at best."
"You're oxymoronic," Dan muttered.
"There is a dictionary in our office. Feel free to use it any time you want," Casey said, and Dan pulled his foot back to his side of the table. Which was clearly unfair; Casey hadn't been trying to be mean or anything. "What would you do there? I'm pretty sure there isn't a campaign position for comic relief."
"I'd be a speechwriter. Or in charge of communications. I'd deal with the press and write stirring speeches, and appear beside her at galas dressed in white tie and tails." Dan sighed in a way that could only be described as dreamy, besotted and extremely deluded. "It'd be like my job now, except no sport, no chaos, no network threatening me with gag orders. I'd be making a difference in the world and, after a few months, Hillary would turn to me -- probably dressed in wine-coloured silk and Chanel slingbacks -- and say that my presence on the campaign had reinvigorated her political chances and that she'd personally found herself inspired by my words."
"This would be more convincing if you could write a script that went more than seven minutes without throwing to me," Casey said, trying not to be jealous of Dan’s ridiculous crush. He nearly succeeded. "Unless you think dear Hillary’s chances would be improved by banter."
Dan rolled his eyes. "I don’t think Hillary needs help in the banter department."
"But she needs your media expertise?" Casey asked and Dan nodded. "Considering your stunning history with interviews and your ability to annoy reporters, I think your reasoning leaves something to be desired. I'd even say it doesn't resemble Earth logic at all."
The bitter twinge of jealousy disappeared when Dan's foot slid over to once more join Casey’s. "You know the actual quote is 'Your logic does not resemble our Earth logic', right?"
Dan grinned brightly – the type of smile that clearly said Casey was being an idiot but Dan could forgive him for it -- and Casey had to smile back. "You're assuming I was trying to quote something."
"I'm assuming you were insulting me to affectionately reaffirm our friendship.”
"Something like that," Casey agreed. "Mind you, Hillary would probably find the ability to quote depreciation rulings very sexy."
"Nothing’s sexier than tax rulings, Casey."
Dan slid his foot up Casey’s calf, and Casey wanted to say he could personally list at least five things Dan could do that were far sexier than memorising tax rulings, but a crowded public bar really wasn’t the place for it. He’d prove his point when they got home.
Beside them, Dana snorted. "No wonder you didn’t get the girl."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
*uses only SN icon*
Date: 2007-05-07 01:15 am (UTC)Re: *uses only SN icon*
Date: 2007-05-07 01:49 am (UTC)Mind you, my only SN icon now is a Dana one too (the headdesk one).
Oh, this is absolutely lovely. I could hear every word.
Thank you. I kept trying to encourage plot, but that was not to be. and the highest compliment to such a dialogue-heavy fic is that the characters sounded right.
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Date: 2007-05-07 03:42 am (UTC)*hearts so much*
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Date: 2007-05-07 04:10 am (UTC)'Cause we all know the taxfic challenge is basically an excuse to write *you* a story. (At least it is for me.)
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Date: 2007-05-12 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 05:29 am (UTC)Though I was sad to hear that the Blue Drinks are banned. :P
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Date: 2007-05-08 06:56 am (UTC)Thank you. If not for my beta pointing out how my ending sucked, that line would never have been added. (Lesson for the kiddies at home: listen to your beta. Even when you don't want to.)*g*
Though I was sad to hear that the Blue Drinks are banned. :P
Well, the blue drinks themselves aren't banned. It's just that the SN crew hasn't yet found another bar that serves them.
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Date: 2007-05-07 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 07:01 am (UTC)Well, it was greatly appreciated. *HUGS*
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Date: 2007-05-07 08:10 am (UTC)Should get myself a Sports Night icon of some description, I really should...
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Date: 2007-05-09 01:37 am (UTC)Thank you!
and it's confirmed that just because I've finally got myself the DVDs doesn't mean I don't still need the really good fic, too.
Oh, exactly! It's a good show and the fanfic? Is just as fantastic, except with occasional bursts of porn.
Should get myself a Sports Night icon of some description, I really should...
You should. Although I'm not one to talk, since the only SN icon I have left these days is this one.
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Date: 2007-05-07 10:00 am (UTC)I'm always so happy to see new SN fic from you because I know the boys will be busy being the boys I know. And this time I got that plus drunk Dana. I win!
*hearts*
Thank you!
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Date: 2007-05-09 01:39 am (UTC)Awwww! It's been wonderful that this story was received so well. It's been so long since I wrote them, and I had my doubts, and it's just fantastic to know I haven't lost touch with them.
And this time I got that plus drunk Dana.
Drunk Dana is a very good thing. It's even better when she's dancing. *has a shallow moment*
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Date: 2007-05-07 11:32 am (UTC)I think Dana knows; she's just playing them.
*uses her only current dana icon*
Date: 2007-05-09 01:41 am (UTC)Thank you!
I think Dana knows; she's just playing them.
Ooooh! I don't know, but she might be. If she is, she hasn't told me, but I think our Dana would enjoy winding the boys up for laughs, without having to go through the awkwardness of having to actually discuss/acknowledge the change in relationships.
Re: *uses her only current dana icon*
Date: 2007-05-09 01:55 am (UTC)Well, no. She knows you can't keep a secret!
She totally knows. It's why she brought up the accountant - the boys are so cute when they're stammering and squirming and cooking up cover stories together.
(that's a hint for you to write part 3: Dana Logic)
Re: *uses her only current dana icon*
Date: 2007-05-09 02:29 am (UTC)Hee! I'm tempted to point out that -- compared to Dana -- I can *totally* keep a secret. Totally.
She totally knows. It's why she brought up the accountant - the boys are so cute when they're stammering and squirming and cooking up cover stories together.
Well, I can't deny that they'd be completely adorable and nervous and weirdly sweet when trying to lie convincingly.
(that's a hint for you to write part 3: Dana Logic)
*snerk* I may keep that idea as a card up my sleeve for next years tax challenge.
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Date: 2007-05-07 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 01:46 am (UTC)*agrees completely* I mean, really, with Dana on one side and Danny on the other, how can you not be
hopelessly turned onin heaven? (And yet, working by that logic, you'd think I'd have written more threesomes featuring them, but I haven't. Well, I wrote one. But no happy ending, so I'm not sure if it counts.)Casey being jealous of Hillary, and the description "dreamy, besotted and extremely deluded".
Hee! Thanks. There's something about random petty jealousy that amuses me. Mind you, it's good that Dan's an understanding type of guy who can overlook Casey's occasionally possessive reaction (and can, likewise, find Casey's hero-worship -- or infatuation -- of certain sportsmen an endearing trait, instead of also being jealous). Casey's kinda lucky to have him.
Also, I'll probably adapt "insulting Danny in a familiar and patronising way designed to show affection and reaffirm the bonds of our friendship" for use in my own life some time soon.
You're welcome to use it as much as physically possible.
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Date: 2007-05-07 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 06:49 am (UTC)I agree completely! (And thank you.)
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Date: 2007-05-08 02:12 am (UTC)Oh, I love these two! Loved the first story, loved this one even more - thanks for sharing it with us!
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Date: 2007-05-08 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 01:35 am (UTC)Thank you, Signe.
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Date: 2007-05-08 02:10 pm (UTC)I love the boys when you write them, so them, and so perfect.
I love Casey being jealous. And the last line I heart so much.
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Date: 2007-05-09 01:23 am (UTC)*blushes* Thank you. It's been such a while since I wrote them -- and I was a little worried I'd skew their voices and it wouldn't work -- so I've been utterly thrilled at the response to this story.
I love the boys when you write them, so them, and so perfect.
Thank you.
I love Casey being jealous. And the last line I heart so much.
Jealous-Casey is adorable when it's him being petty and it's easily fixed. (Oh, hell, even when it's not easily fixed, it's still weirdly, dorkishly adorable.) And that last line is proof that it's important to listen to your beta.